~*****~

Jamie is still trying to get a grasp on the whole monster ideal. "So, monsters are real."

"Some of them, yeah," I shrug. "And the shapeshifter, he can turn into different people. Except this one's turning into the great monsters of screenland, which is a new one for me."

Jamie turns around, clutching her hands tightly together. "You're not really FBI, are you?"

I snort. "Not so much."

"So, this is what you do? You and your partners just tramp across the country on your own dime until you find some horrible nightmare to fight?" Jamie asks.

"It's not... ideal, but it's what I have to do." I explain.

Jamie just sighs. "That must suck." She says. "I mean, you're giving up your life for this terrible... I don't know, responsibility."

I lean back in my seat again and rub at my nose-- there was a flash of pain that brought tears to my eyes, but I quickly stuffed it down-- and sighed. "These, uh, these last few months, yeah, I've been thinking the same thing. But some recent events, well..." I trail off and sip at my whiskey again. Jamie takes a seat besides me and nestles into my side. "Think of it as a mission from God."

"So, does that make you some kind of nun, or something?" Jamie asks softly. "Like, are you celibate?"

My lip quirks upwards. "I appreciate the interest, I really do, Jamie." I say softly. "But being with a woman like that, kinda terrifies me." I explain softly. "And I'm kinda engaged."

Jamie smiles fondly and leans against me. "And you two, kiss and flirt around for fun?"

I chuckle. "Yeah, it's a game we've had going on for years." Jamie kisses me softly and just for the moment, I enjoy it.

The lights flicker on and I pull away sharply, gazing at the bar top with a brow raised. "Oh, my god- Guys, I'm-- I'm sorry." Jamie's friend says from the bar. "I thought you guys were going out."

"Lucy, it's-- it's okay. Uh, listen--" Jamie stammers.

"You know what? I just-- I came to borrow a bottle. I kind of got something going back at my..." Lucy trails off. "Anyway, uh, you guys look really busy, so I'm just gonna get out of your hair."

Jamie giggles. "Seriously, Lucy, it's been a crazy night. Stay for a drink."

I chuckle. "Yeah, stay for a drink."

~*****~

Jamie is drunk. And I mean, completely blasted. "Oh, honey, I am so sorry that happened!" Lucy exclaimed after Jamie had told her what happened. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I am fine." Jamie slurred. "He didn't even touch me. Lottie, she just-" Jamie giggled. "Blew right in and fought him off."

I clear my throat and sip at my whiskey. "Yeah, sure did." I murmur.

"It was really, really something." Jamie sighed.

"Jamie?" I hum softly as her head nods a little.

"So, Lottie, are you like a black belt, or what?" Lucy asks curiously. Her words blur out a little as my vision starts to warp a little. I clench my eyes shut a few times, trying to stop it.

"It's you, isn't it?" I ask as I nudge my glass to the side as carefully as I can.

"Lottie?" Jamie asks in a slur before slumping against the table.

Lucy just smiles as I force myself upwards, my hands immediately latching to her red locks and throwing her across the room. She hits the bar and a sick crack echoes through the building. "What the hell did you put in our drinks?" I ask as I stumble from the table. I glance over at Lucy as she gets up, her body at an awkward angle. With another snap, she rights herself.

I groan and slap at my head for a moment. "Damn it-" I growl and lunge for her. My legs give out and I hit the ground hard, my knees scraping against the floor before I lean back, gazing up at her through my bleary eyes.

"And, scene." Lucy chirps before cracking a bottle across my face.

~*****~

When I come to, there's a strange breeze skimming at my legs. I glance down and whine. "Seriously?" I whine as I struggle through the bonds. "Lederhosen?" My eyes fly up to try and scan the room for something to use, but my gaze stops on the portrait on the wall.

"She is beautiful, no?" That fake Hungarian accent rang out. "Bride number three from the first film. She never got the acclaim that she deserved. Which is why I chose her shape, her form to move among the mortals unnoticed, to listen to the cricket songs of the living. That is when I discovered my bride had been reborn in this century."

I couldn't stop it. My gut was burning with trying to contain my giggles. "I can't get over what a pumpkin-pie-eyed, crazy son of a bitch you really are." I snort and start laughing harder. "You're not Dracula, you get that, right? Please, it's important to me that you get that. I mean, even if you think you are Dracula, what the hell's up with the mummy?!"

My head snaps to the side as I'm clocked once across the cheek. "I am all monsters!" Dracula boomed.

"Life ain't a movie, you sorry sack of--" I'm cut off again by another slug.

"Life is small," Dracula says. "Meager, messy. The movies are grand, simple, elegant. I have chosen elegance."

I giggle again. "You think elegance is the word for what you did to Marissa or Rick Deacon? Or any of the others?"

"But of course. It is a monster movie, after all."

"You do realize what happens at the end of every monster movie?" I reiterate.

Dracula sighs. "But this movie is mine. And in it, the monster wins. The monster gets the girl. And the hero, she's... electrocuted." I gaze over at the switch he's edging towards. "And tonight, Jennifer Harker--"

"Jennifer?" I echo irritably.

He ignores me. "You will be my hero!" Just as he grasps the handle, the doorbell goes off. We glance at one another for a moment.

"You gonna get that?" I inquire bitterly.

Dracula sneers. "Please, excuse me." With a flick of his cape, he runs out of the room. 

"Friggin' nerd." I sigh before kicking my legs upwards, breaking the restraints easily. I slip through the top ring with a soft yelp. There's a clopping noise as I hit the ground, and I groan again. I kick off the clogs and pad away from the table.

"Lottie?" I hear Dean. I whirl around and immediately tug the skirt down a little more.

"Listen, the guy was about to Frankenstein me and he decided I need to be wearing this atrocity for it." I explain hastily as my face flushes.

Sam just snorts and gazes at me up and down. "That's..." He trails off.

"Shut up." I say immediately.

Sam chuckles and hands me a silver knife. Dean gestures to the door as we approach it. Sam kicks it in-- literally, the entire door falls forward.

"Seriously? Is all this from a cheap prop studio?" I ask.

Sam shrugs. "Let's go."

We push open another set of doors-- the set doesn't open with the door handles, it's one giant door. "Okay, this is getting ridiculous." Dean comments.

Sam rushes towards Jamie when he spots her on the bed, onto to be thrown through the wall- again, literally, it's all cheap. "You will never be Van Helsing!" Dracula shouts at Sam. Dean gets knocked aside when he tries to attack and I'm grasped by the throat again when I jump in. "And now, Ms. Harker, it is time for you to die."

"You know, I was trying to keep it on the downlow, buddy." I mention before I fry his ass. Bright light erupts from his mouth and eyes, and he drops dead, skin sizzling violently. "You know," I say as I turn to Dean. "Our job is weird, but this takes the cake." I swat at my skirt irritably.

~*****~

"You seriously asked Jamie for a spare bar wench outfit?" I ask as Dean and I wait for Sam.

Dean grins and holds up the bag. "Hell yeah, I even packed up those lederhosen for you." Dean mentions. I roll my eyes at him and tug on his jacket. He gives me a swift kiss. "So, she a good kisser?"

I laugh. "Yeah, definitely better than you. That's another one in my favor. How many am I at now?"

Dean tugs out John's journal and flips to the very end, where a few sticky notes sit. "You're at... twenty-seven."

"So I'm in the lead?"

"By two!" Dean retorts in offence.

Sam approached us with a smile. "Ready?" He asks.

"Feels good to be back on the job, doesn't it?" Dean asks. "Monster gets the gank- all in all, happy ending-- with a happy ending, no less."

Sam snorts. "Yeah, I know. My ear muffs can't muffle everything." Sam rolls his eyes.

"Well, shifter man had a point. It'd be nice if life was a movie. Although, if I was turning life into a movie, I wouldn't do this 'Abbott and Costello meet the Monster' crap." I reiterate.

"Yeah, no, I know what you'd pick." Sam retorts.

"No, you don't." I chuckle.

"Yeah, I do." Sam reiterates.

"No, you don't." I say in a firmer tone.

"Rocky Horror Picture Show." Sam immediately says.

"What?"

"You heard me."

I snort and glance at Sam. "Lucky guess."